


Strange and Free

by jenni4765



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 22:18:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10370925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenni4765/pseuds/jenni4765
Summary: After a visit from his sister Galadriel, Finrod finds himself in a blue funk and decides to leave Nargothrond to visit his cousins.





	

Finrod stared up at the full moon, marveling that it shone as brightly as the brightest jewel that the dwarves had fashioned for him in his new home of Nargothrond. He marveled at its silvery sheen that lit the night sky. And how different its light was from the ancient lamp Illuin and the old tree Telperion, yet how well he remembered them even though they had existed so long ago. Feeling gloomy and depressed after arguing with Galadriel, he ruminated on the past.

With the change of each light source had come fundamental changes to the world and the recognition that not all was perfect in it. With this last change, the sun and moon replacing the two trees, had come the collective realization among his people that blind trust in the people you thought were your allies was no longer possible. 

The sun and moon could not be overthrown as easily as the lamps and the trees had been and existed to remind all good people that evil remained around them though they might not know of it. Finrod despaired that too recent had been the harsh words of Thingol wherein he had forbidden the speaking of Quenya by the Sindar or by anyone in his kingdom once he had heard of the kinslaying. Rather than being proud of himself for not standing up for his own actions and thereby not betraying his cousins, he in fact felt wretched and depressed because he thought he had taken the cowardly route.

Not only was the memory of that meeting painful like a wound that remained raw long after it was suffered, but his sister Galadriel had opened a new one by lately reminding him of Amarie and had chided him for not taking a wife while in Middle-earth. 

"I do not understand you at all. brother." She raised her voice to him. "You are now a king of your people! It is not natural that you should remain single."

Finrod had sworn to her that he would not be responsible for any children to be born in Middle-earth and he meant it. For when Amarie left him he had fallen into deep despair and it was only the love of his cousin Turgon who had lost his own wife on the crossing that kept him from tumbling down into a depression that he may not have been able to raise himself out of. He knew he and Turgon had comforted each other to the point that they had quickly become lovers. It was Finrod's way of dealing with his resolve that he should take no wife and he supposed it was Turgon's method of dealing with the irreparable loss of Elenwe. At first he thought that he and Turgon shared a love that was greater than each had felt before but now he wondered if they had merely found comfort in each other's arms, that it was only temporary and not meant to last forever.

When Finrod and Amarie had last been together she was firm, even cold, in her last words to him. He could no longer bear to think of them.

"You are being stupid," she had more or less told him. "And I cannot live with a stupid man." Then she turned her back on him and flounced back to her mother.

Chilled by her words he had turned away after standing still as stone for a few moments before slowly shuffling off to join those of his people who had deigned to follow him. And eventually finding himself in the arms of his cousin.

But at the moment Turgon was not here. They had separated after traveling together along the banks of the Sirion and when they parted Turgon had, for the first time since they had been together, acted distant. At that time Finrod had had a visionary dream about building Nargothrond and had been eager to get to work, so he did not take too much notice of their separation. 

At this time, however, Finrod felt that he could bear no more bad news. He missed his cousin terribly, he who had been by his side for so long. The ache of loneliness burned in him and he felt he was shrouded in some dark veil that worsened the raw hurt he felt from fighting with his kin. He missed lying next to the warm body of his beloved Turgon in the dark of night, both of them naked and limbs entwined after lovemaking. Turgon was the only true love he felt he still had and the last comfort that he would know for a while. He sighed deeply, feeling the pain of loss and stared up at the moon's cold light for the remainder of the night.

The next day Finrod decided to go and visit his cousins Maedhros and Maglor but his heart wasn't in hunting, though that is what they desired to do. They had welcomed him kindly enough, but he was still restless and feeling that his place was not with them at this time, decided to wander about in the lands south of theirs.

"Where is he?" Maglor, coming to the top of a rise, turned his horse toward his brother, watching him canter up the hill. "Who knows?" Maedhros replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Finrod has been acting strangely since he got here." They had lost sight of their cousin, who had left the hunt without a word and had disappeared.

Night fell and the full moon rose again, for it had been exactly a month since Finrod had gazed at the moon from a window on an upper level parapet at Nargothrond.

Below the springs of Thalos near Ered Lindon Finrod heard music coming from among the trees. He followed the sound until he had drawn close enough to see the singers. Stunned by the strange people he saw singing in an unknown language he stayed hidden until they had all fallen asleep. Then he stole quietly into their camp, so fascinated by their appearance that he forgot his woes temporarily.

He picked up a harp lying upon the ground and by the light of the moon he began to sing in a forlorn voice at first, but as he sang and the people began to wake and were delighted by what they heard and saw, hope crept into his song and soon the tempo picked up until it became a song of joy that they shared together.


End file.
